


Resignation

by chaostheoryy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Based on Season 1, Confident Wilson, First Kiss, House Season 1, Idk man I just wanted to rewrite the episode, M/M, Pre-Relationship, S1Ep18, Season 1, Surprised House, Witty and seductive banter, hilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaostheoryy/pseuds/chaostheoryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Wilson is forced to resign after defending House during the board meeting, House realizes that there is something far more important to him than his own happiness: Wilson.</p><p>Based off of Season 1 Episode 18 - "Babies and Bathwater"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resignation

            James Wilson had done many things for Gregory House throughout the years. So many, in fact, that they probably couldn't even be listed in a single journal. And if one should find themselves able to comprise all these things into a physical list, they would find that more often than not Wilson's array of sacrifices were taken for granted by the man he made them for. That time Wilson repainted House's bedroom? There was no expression of gratitude from the diagnostician. That time Wilson carried House down the stairs after the man twisted his ankle? No "thank you" from House then either. Hell, even that time Wilson saved House's life by giving the older man mouth-to-mouth after nearly drowning in a pool the only words that came out of House were "I thought kissing you would be a little more exciting".

            But even after all those years of being taken for granted, not once did Wilson consider ending his friendship with House. He knew, even without House telling him, that House would be alone without him. Besides, he cared about House more than anyone on the planet. House was his best friend and he would do anything to protect him. Anything at all. Even sacrifice his job.

            And he did just that.

            When Vogler gave him the option to resign in order to avoid facing the humility of being sacked for refusing to revoke House's tenure, he took it knowing it would give House the opportunity to remain in the hospital for as long as possible. So what if it only bought House one more day at Princeton-Plainsboro? That was one more day House had to save lives and do what he loved.

            As much as he knew he was doing the right thing by protecting House, it hurt Wilson to know he was leaving the best job he would ever have. Aside from his friendship with Gregory House, his position as the head of the Oncology Department at Princeton-Plainsboro was the most important thing in his life. It only seemed right, however, knowing he was giving it up for the only other thing that truly mattered in his life: Gregory House.

***

            " _What_?"

            House's expression remained completely stern, electric-blue eyes piercing straight through Vogler. "Give Wilson his job back and I will resign," he repeated.

            The plump chairman sitting before him looked completely surprised. "Is this some sort of game you're playing with me Dr. House?" Vogler asked with a curious grin, "I find it hard to believe that you have actually changed your mind."

            House's grip on his cane tightened as his jaw clenched. As much as he hated surrendering to Vogler, he had no other choice. He needed to protect Wilson. All these years, Wilson had sacrificed himself for House without worrying about how deep a hole he dug for himself. The least House could do was let Wilson keep the job he so desperately wanted. "Reemploy Wilson and I can guarantee you that I won't step foot in this hospital again."

            The look of arrogant pride that came over Vogler's face made House want to vomit. It was the most insidious grin he'd ever seen, one that made a Disney villain look like a friendly school teacher. "Very well," Vogler said in satisfaction, "I accept your resignation. And I will have Dr. Cuddy inform Dr. Wilson that he may return to his position."

            House looked down at his feet as the feeling of defeat overtook him. He had just thrown up the white flag in front of a man he had battled with the intention of thoroughly defeating. Nothing was more shameful than losing to a man like Vogler. But in this instance, House knew there was nothing more right than sacrificing his career to save Wilson's.

            As he turned and began limping toward the door, he heard a deep chuckle escape Vogler's throat before the man mumbled, "And so the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that day."

***

            Wilson was slumped over the bar with his third glass of beer in hand when his cell began vibrating at his hip. Normally he'd have the phone to his ear in a millisecond knowing he could be the difference between life and death. But having resigned, there was no need to rush. It couldn't be the hospital. It couldn't be a patient. It was only a bitter reminder of the fact that he was joining the ranks of the unemployed.

            "Hello?" He mumbled into the phone once he finally had it open.

            Of all the people Wilson considered being on the other end of the line, Lisa Cuddy was the last on his list and yet it was her voice that made its way into his ear. And of all the sentences he considered hearing through the phone, this was what he heard: "Vogler is giving you your job back."

            Wilson nearly dropped his glass. "What?" He sat up straight and stared at the surplus of drink mixtures lining the shelves across the way. "Why?"

            The silence that followed his inquiry was daunting, like a dark ominous cloud drifting in front of the sun. It was a sign that the answer Cuddy was about to give him was one he more than likely didn't want to hear. And God was he right.

            "House agreed to resign on the condition that you were rehired as head of the Oncology Department."

            Wilson's heart felt as if it had plummeted into his stomach and was waiting to be thrown up. House had resigned. And he hadn't done so because he was sick of putting up with Cuddy's griping or Chase and Foreman's constant bickering at one another. Hell, he hadn't even done it to escape Vogler's filthy iron grip. House had resigned in order to let Wilson keep his job.

            Wilson was in absolute disbelief. Gregory House had done something selfless for the first time in his life and his sacrifice had been made for Wilson's benefit.

            "Is he still there?" Wilson finally asked in desperation as he withdrew himself from his thoughts.

            "I think he's still cleaning out his office."

            Wilson was on his feet immediately. If House was still at the hospital, then Wilson was going to meet him there. This was something he needed to confront the diagnostician about, an issue he couldn't overlook. Gregory House had given up the one thing in his life he loved -the one thing that kept him sane and content- and he had given it up for James Wilson. And Wilson needed to know why.

***

            As he packed away his belongings in his office, House was consumed with the strange feelings of shame and dejection. He was a man who refused to cave into other people's desires, a man who always looked out for himself. He was known for being arrogant and selfish, infamous for being cold and constantly breaking rules to prove he was brilliant. And yet there he was, willingly leaving Princeton-Plainsboro because he cared. Because James Wilson was more important to him than his job and his pride.

            With all of his books and possessions crammed into cardboard boxes, House sat down in his chair and leaned over, pressing his forehead against the handle of his cane. He rubbed the cool, polished wood against the bridge of his nose and over his brow as he closed his eyes and thought about the decision he had made. He had surrendered to Edward Vogler, given that bastard the ability to brag to everyone that he had controlled Gregory House. And knowing he'd lost to Vogler was hard. But knowing he had given up in order to protect Wilson made it possible for him to accept that the decision he had made was the right one.

            "Y'know, for a self-righteous genius, you can be a complete idiot."

            House's eyes opened and his head slowly lifted, allowing him to catch sight of the familiar figure of James Wilson standing in the doorway of his office. Wilson's hair was more mussed than usual, his tie was loose, and his eyes were red from what House could only assume was an extended period of crying. _He's been drinking too_ , House noted.

            House sighed and stood up. "Dr. Wilson," he said with an obnoxiously fake enthusiasm, "How was your little vacation? Time flew by so fast it was almost like you never left."

            To the diagnostician's surprise, there was no indication of amusement on Wilson's face. His expression was stern, brow furrowed and lips pulled into a scowl as he stood with his hands on his hips. "Why would you do that?" Wilson asked sharply.

            House limped his way around his desk. "Well, most people go on vacation to take a break from the stresses of work," he said caustically as he made his way over to the chair in the corner of the room to fetch his bag. Wilson, however, was there in an instant, grabbing his wrist to keep him from getting his hands on it.

            "That's not what I'm talking about. Why would you resign? Why would you give in to Vogler?"

            The diagnostician's eyes strayed from his bag and found Wilson's looking right back at him. Wilson was in disbelief. Angry? No. Upset? Perhaps. Confused? Definitely. How could he not be? Gregory House, a man known for his selfishness and his refusal to surrender to anyone, had given up the long fight with Edward Vogler and resigned.

            House looked away, feeling as if Wilson's eyes would peel back every layer of cold sarcasm and find the truth hidden beneath them. "The game got boring," he lied, "I was growing tired of back-to-back shut out innings and decided to lob one over the middle."

            "That's not true. No game of wit will ever be boring for you, House. You live for that." Wilson released House's wrist and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning the diagnostician so that they were standing facing one another. "Stop lying to me and tell me the truth. Why did you give up your job for me?"

            House's eyes widened. Cuddy had told him. He not only knew about the resignation, but that House's resignation had been given in exchange for Wilson's return to the hospital. Great.

            Wilson's gaze was relentless. He wasn't going to look away until he had an answer and, frankly, having those eyes fixed on him for so long was beginning to make House feel alarmingly uncomfortable. Now that Wilson knew that his action had been taken for a selfless reason, every line of defense had been stripped away from him, revealing the vulnerable, sentient human they had been defending. He was exposed and Wilson could see the one part of him he so desperately tried to conceal: his heart.

            The diagnostician lowered his head like a wolf prostrating itself before the dominant alpha of its pack. He swallowed, grip repeatedly tightening and loosening on the handle of his cane. His heart had been revealed and he had no other choice but to present it to the man before him. "I told you earlier," he murmured, refusing to lift his head and make eye contact.

            House could practically hear Wilson thinking, those cogs in his head furiously turning as the man tried to access his recent memories. He knew that it was more than likely difficult for Wilson to pinpoint the exact moment and words he was referring to, especially with the alcohol in his system. Hell, House doubted that Wilson would even remember those two words he said to the oncologist in his office when Wilson criticized him for-

            "They mattered."

            House lifted his head slightly and looked at Wilson through his lashes. He remembered.

            "My job and our friendship..." Wilson murmured with a sense of astonishment as the realization washed over him, "They matter to you."

            The diagnostician's eyes wandered away from Wilson's awestruck face as he shifted awkwardly in place. House had never been known for being soft and admitting to giving a damn about anyone but himself. But now it was known that House cared about someone more than himself: Wilson.

            House's breath hitched as a warm hand found its way onto his neck, fingertips gently caressing his skin. His head immediately turned and his eyes found that the hand most certainly belonged to Wilson. His grip on his cane loosened. He had never felt a touch as gentle or as soothing as the one he was experiencing. There was so much affection, so much care in that touch that only a fool would mistake it for a friendly gesture. House knew what that touch meant and it was that realization that made him gaze at Wilson with absolute disbelief.

            "Why are you caressing me like that?"

            "You know why."

            "Yeah, I do."

            "Then why are you asking?"

            "Because I want to hear you explain it."

            A small grin tugged at Wilson's lips as he let out a breathy chuckle, one that brought a tiny grin to House's scruffy face as well. "Of course you do," Wilson muttered with a slight shake of the head, "You're going to store my words away in the back of that head of yours aren't you?"

            "Definitely."

            Wilson scoffed and looked down at his feet for a brief moment before letting his eyes return to the diagnostician's face. The amused expression on his face faded, giving way to a breathtaking look of seduction, lips ever so slightly parted and eyes that seemed to flow like melted chocolate. The change in Wilson's demeanor nearly swept House off his feet. Now that was a look he never expected to get from his companion.

            "House," Wilson murmured lowly as he let his other hand run over the diagnostician's chest.

            House felt as if his heart were going to bust right out of his thoracic cavity and into the hand that was now rubbing his chest. "Y-yes?" His voice wavered unexpectedly, making it obvious just how tantalized he was by Wilson's unannounced advancement.

            The hand Wilson had on the side of House's neck snaked its way around to the back of House's head where his fingertips buried themselves in the man's gray hair and his nails gently grazed along his scalp. "Let me thank you for what you did," Wilson whispered as he slowly leaned toward the diagnostician.

            House could practically feel his pupils dilate as Wilson's face grew closer to his own. Wilson was going to kiss him and God was he going to accept it.

            By the time Wilson's lips were pressed against his, House's eyes were shut and his heart was pounding. He had always wondered what it would feel like being kissed by Wilson. He had assumed it would be just like any other kiss: satisfying but mediocre.

            But he was wrong.

            Wilson's kiss was mesmerizing, his lips moving with confidence and expertise. If anyone asked him if Wilson was an amazing kisser, House would certainly say yes.

            House's eyelids lifted just in time to allow him to see a small smirk sneak its way onto Wilson's face as he pulled away. "Well?"

            House furrowed his brow in confusion. "Well what?"

            "Is that as exciting as you thought it was going to be?" Wilson teased, reminding House of the words he had spoken after he'd been rescued from the pool a few years earlier.

            House couldn't help but smile. Even now, after struggling with the emotional stresses of that day and sharing in his first kiss with House, Wilson was able to toy with him just as easily as he usual. "It's no back-seat French kiss," House replied with a smirk of his own, "But it may make my top ten."

            "I could push you down into the chair and out-do all of those back-seat French kisses you love so much," Wilson said playfully as he slipped his hand down to hook his finger in the waist of House's jeans, "But something tells me Cuddy wouldn't appreciate having you screw around in this office after you've resigned."

            House let out a low hum, smirk growing wider. "I wouldn't mind going out with a bang," he murmured seductively as he leaned toward Wilson.

            Wilson rolled his eyes and laughed softly at House's innuendo before removing his hands from House's body and stepping back. "We're not having sex in here, no matter how much you try to guilt me into it," he said as he grabbed House's bag and slung it over his shoulder.

            House gave him an exaggerated pout. "Not even going to get a little handsy to show me appreciation for my sacrifice?"

            Wilson laughed as he grabbed one of the boxes off of House's desk. "Not a chance," he replied.

            House observed Wilson with an amused expression as the oncologist made his way toward the door before pausing and turning to look back at him. "If you hurry up and get all of your crap out of here, I might be grateful enough to do something alarmingly inappropriate in the car," he tempted the diagnostician.

            House's brow raised, electric-blue eyes sparkling with intrigue as he watched Wilson exit the office. In that moment, whatever regret and shame he felt for losing to Edward Vogler was wiped away, leaving him beaming with pride knowing his sacrifice had won him the greatest gift he could ever ask for: James Wilson.


End file.
